Society's Outcasts
by ItsCalledtheDistrict
Summary: How do you deal with society trying to change who you are? Tino (Tiina) Vainamoinen didn't know. He just knew the pain that came with being a closeted transgendered teenager. But when a man sits next to him on the swings set and starts talking, Tino realises he may not be the only one who's struggling to fit in with society.


**Cross-posted on AO3**  
 **Title:** Society's Outcasts  
 **Author:** ItsCalledtheDistrict  
 **Pairings:** Pre-Relationship SuFin  
 **Warnings:** Mentions of past self-harm, homophobia, cursing, slight violence, unsupportive family members  
 **Other Notes:** Trans!Finland (yay!)

* * *

 _"Damn it Eduard will you ever just grow up?!"_

 _"You're a girl, you don't understand!"_

 _"It is not because I am female!"_

 _"Yes it is because of your_ gender _..."_

 _..._

 _"You don't understand. How it is to be a female in this society. Even my own little brother talks bad about me. He thinks since he's a man and I'm not that he's bigger, and stronger than I am."_

 _"Oh Tiina, it's not because you're_ a girl _. He's just in adolescence, he'll grow out of it."_

 _"You're not helping it! You're encouraging him!"_

 _"Tiina, no that's not-"_

 _"I'm going for a walk, don't bother calling me."_

...

The argument played in Tiina's head repeatedly. How her little brother was being stupid, how he crossed the line. How her father didn't stand up for her, how stupid society is. How she couldn't come out as _he_ yet, because of the rejection she'll get from her family.

She already experienced that from her brother, but who gives a damn. He's stupid. Who's the one getting all A's while he gets C's? Not him. She should be able to make her own decisions. One of them being her gender.

So when Tiina is alone, Tiina introduces herself as Tino. Tino, the person he wants to be. Fuck society.

"... _it is because of your_ gender..."

Tino punched a tree. ' _Damn him!'_ He thought, _'Damn him and his Y chromosome. I could have had one. And when I hint that I want to be treated like I have one, I'm always shot down. "I should care about what society thinks of me. I should dress girly, and stop cutting my hair short. I should stop shopping in the boys department." You'd think that they'd be accepting, having three boys already.'_

"Damn it all!" Tino screamed, punching a nearby tree. He may have had splinters, he didn't care. He wanted to _hurt_. He wanted the satisfaction of pain in his knuckles, or the rush of adrenaline from a cut on his leg.

He wouldn't let himself have it though. He stopped that behaviour three years ago. He promised Lukas, promised he'd put down the knife. Promised he wouldn't have any more self-inflicted scars.

' _Lukas isn't here though,'_ His brain reminded him, _'you could get away with it. You could see those scars tomorrow, they'd still be fresh. Let them see what they do to you, let them see that you're a man who can take a hit. Let them know how much you're hurting right now.'_

 _'Stop it.'_ Another part of his brain told him. _'You'd just end up telling Lukas anyways. How disappointed would he be? Don't do it. Don't do it.'_

 _'Do it'_

 _'Don't'_

 _'Just-'_

"STOP IT!" Tino punched another tree, harder. He didn't feel it though. You don't feel things like that when you're concentrated on the pains in your head and chest.

The neighbourhood was quiet, as always. Tino hated it. The birds flew ahead, ignoring him. The old woman kept watering her plants, glaring at him like he was some overdramatic teen. The man kept working on that old car; the one that his wife told him to get rid of decades ago. Well, what else would you expect from some 1990s homophobic neighbourhood that either accepts you or throws you to the side.

 _'Well, you were rejected. No one will ever want a freak like you. Not only are you trans, you're asexual. No man will ever want that. Even your mother said you'll have to please your husband someday. And that guy who sits by you at lunch? He claims you'll have thirty kids by the time you're 30. How does that feel? Sick. That's how society feels about you.'_

Tino ran. Why? He didn't really know. Maybe to get away from the voice in his head, maybe to get the adrenaline he needed. Maybe so he wouldn't cry, because _no one_ was going to see Tino Väinämöinen cry.

Yeah, he still used his mother's maiden name. So what? He didn't want to be related to that creepy Russian dude she married. He wanted nothing to do with his three sons. He wanted out.

But in a small neighbourhood, it's hard to be ignored. Especially when the town gossips. There are already rumours that Tino is a lesbian, to which his father claimed wrong very quickly. _"Tiina is perfect,"_ He said, _"She will marry a nice man someday and give me nice grandchildren!"_

Fuck him. And fuck his non-existent grandchildren.

Tino ran out of breath quickly. He slowed down enough to survey his surroundings. He was near the little park; where he and his little brothers used to play. No bitter memories came to mind as he thought about the small park. Subconsciously he started walking towards the swings.

He decided to sit there for a while. He didn't think anyone he knew would come by. If they did he wouldn't talk to them. Not to be rude or anything, but if he talked to them, he would have to be Tiina.

Right now, he doesn't like Tiina. Hates her, really. She's his life's lie. She's living the life he wants to have as a guy. He wants to be accepted by his family. He wants people to like her and ask where he gets his clothes. He wants people to use his preferred name, his preferred pronouns.

Well, society doesn't want that. So fuck society.

Tino sat on a vacant swing, pulling out his cell phone so he looked busy. He didn't want to deal with the moms who would ask when his boyfriend was getting here. He wasn't some lovesick teenage girl dammit!

But when he got on his phone, he realised there was no one to text. Sure, he had Lukas, but Lukas wouldn't respond. It was midnight where he was. He had Kiku, but Kiku would never understand. That's the problem with his friends: they don't understand.

That's why he is still Tiina to them.

After looking over his contacts twice, Tino found that the swing next to him had been taken. Looking over at the person next to him, he almost fell out of his swing.

The man looked tall, even while sitting. He looked (glared?) forward, not paying much attention to Tino. His glasses were quite thick, and the outfit he wore looked way too cold for the windy weather. Compared to Tino's sweatpants and sweatshirt, his shorts and sleeveless shirt made it look like it was midsummer.

Tino adjusted himself on the swing, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. The stranger sat right next to him. Does that mean he wants to talk? Should he say something? Should he move?

He began to move, when the stranger spoke softly, "You look unhappy."

Tino jumped, not expecting him to say anything. He sat back down again, looking at the millions of rocks near his feet. He didn't respond, why would he? With his luck, the stranger would be like everyone else in the damn neighbourhood.

"You can talk to me if you want. I'll be here for a while." The stranger said. Tino noted his slight accent. Was he possibly European?

After a few moments, Tino found his voice. "I don't want to bother you," He replied, "it's not really an issue most people understand."

The stranger shrugged. "I may know a little bit about it. You never know. Besides, it's easier to talk to a stranger about personal problems. Just thought I would offer."

Tino sighed, not saying anything. The stranger didn't get up though, nor did he prod more.

Tino looked back up, "Why are you here, anyways? Trying to pick people up? It's not gonna work, unless you want some five year old."

To his shock, the stranger laughed. "No, no," The stranger responded, "my little brother is playing. Besides, it's hard for me to 'pick people up' around here."

"Why, because you're too tall? I thought a lot of girls liked that." _And guys_ , Tino added quietly, _please don't be some homophobic jerk..._

"No. Not interested in girls." The stranger said, looking at Tino. This caught Tino's attention. _Okay, so not a homophobic jerk. At least, I don't think so._

The stranger continued, "And guys don't seem to go for the demisexual kind. Most around here don't, at least."

Tino's eyes went wide. He saw the moment of panic that flashed through the stranger's eyes. The stand still position, waiting for his response..

It almost reminded him of himself, when he came out to Eduard.

Tino smiled slightly. "Well, guys also don't seem to like it when you're an asexual transmale."

The stranger took time to process what Tino had said. Not too long after, he nodded. "So, are you aromantic as well?" He asked.

Tino shook his head, "No, I guess I'm homoromantic. I'm not really interested in girls."

This made the stranger smile slightly. He held out his hand to Tino. "I'm Berwald."

Tino took his hand, and shook it. "Tino. Well, that's what I prefer to be called."

"Then that's what you should be called." Berwald stated. Tino smiled and laughed, a smile that no one had seen in a while. This was a real smile, not a fake one that Tiina wore around. Tino couldn't remember the last time he smiled for himself, not because anyone expected him to. It was nice.

"So, now that we've been introduced, why not tell me what's wrong?" Berwald requested softly.

Tino exhaled, and began his story.

Later, Tino laid in his bed. It was late, and his family had gone to bed. He pulled his phone out of his pillowcase, clicking the notification that said he had a new text message.

 _Berwald: 'So, this may be weird to say, but I had fun today. Do you think we can do something like this again?'_

Tino smiled, typing out his response. _'Yes. I'm free Saturday, my brother has Russian lessons. Maybe we can go on a walk.'_

 _Berwald: 'Sounds nice. I should be free, unless my brother does something stupid. But for now we'll plan on 12.00 by the swings?'_

 _Tino: 'Perfect, I'll see you then. Can't wait!'_

He wasn't lying, either. He actually couldn't wait to see Berwald again.


End file.
